


Impaled

by JantoJones



Series: Torchwood [16]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6383608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto gets impaled on a Weevil hunt. Jack tells him about the times he's been impaled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impaled

Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones sprinted after the Weevil they'd been chasing for the last fifteen minutes. It was unusual to find one this far out of the city, but it happened occasionally. Running through muddy fields at night was not one of Ianto's favourite activities. Especially whilst wearing a three piece Armani suit and patent leather shoes. Jack, with his amazing night vision, fantastic balance and suitable footwear, had no problems. Ianto had to use a torch to see where he was putting his feet, but it didn't stop him from tripping and stumbling after the Captain.

Jack was too absorbed in the hunt to notice that Ianto was dropping behind. He did, however, hear the younger man scream out in pain. Abandoning the chase, Jack did an about-turn and ran back to Ianto. He found him lying in the mud and, despite the darkness, could clearly see a thick piece of rusty wire poking out of Ianto's thigh.

"Try not to move, Yan."

"Don't have a lot of choice, Jack," Ianto gasped. "Where's the Weevil?"

"I think it's gone," the Captain told him.

Ianto noticed though, that he didn't re-holster his gun. Jack activated his comms to call Owen. He knew he should really call an ambulance but didn't want civilians anywhere near a rogue Weevil. He told the medic what had happened and urged him to get their as soon as possible. Ianto could almost hear the Londoner complaining about being dragged out into the country.

"Owen's coming," Jack reassured the other man. "Don't worry; I've been impaled at least five times. It's not too bad."

"Tell me about them."

"You don't want to hear it."

Ianto groped around for Jack's free hand and squeezed it as though he were making sure it was there. "Please, Jack," he said through gritted teeth. "What else are we going to do until Owen gets here? Besides, it'll take my mind off the pain."

Not necessarily, Jack thought to himself. "Okay," he began. "The first time was, coincidentally, when I realised that death was no longer an option."

************************************************** ************************************

Jack hadn't been back on Earth long. He'd spent some time moping around Cardiff, feeling sorry for himself. He was very upset that the Doctor had abandoned him on that God-forsaken station. Eventually, Jack got sick of moping and decided to cheer himself up. He did this by engaging in sports. To be truthful though, it wasn't really the sports that interested Jack. It was more the attractive and fit bodies.

Jack had been training on the track and failed to hear the warnings from the other athletes. They were trying to tell him that a stray javelin was heading his way. The projectile caught him square in the neck, killing him instantly.

************************************************** ************************************

"It caused some comment when I woke up four hours later."

"I bet it did," Ianto replied, with a slight laugh. "It must have freaked you out also."

Jack had to concede that it had come as a hell of a shock. "I'm just glad they pulled javelin out before I revived."

Ianto shifted his weight slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable. He only succeeded in pulling his leg against the impaling wire. The resulting pain radiated through his thigh and left a sick feeling in his stomach. Jack stroked Ianto's hand with his thumb.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," the Welshman gasped. "I'm fine. What was your second impaling incident?"

************************************************** ************************************

In 1901, Jack was happily shagging his way around Cardiff. He was indiscriminate about his choice of partner and found a lot of young Victorian men weren't as prudish as society demanded. Unfortunately, he had no idea that his activities were being observed by a local preacher. The preacher had concluded that Jack was the Devil Incarnate, come to Cardiff to corrupt its citizens and take their souls for his own. He decided his only course of action was to rid the city of the evil.

The preacher had waited near an inn which he knew the devil frequented very regularly. As soon as he put in an appearance, he approached him. Jack had no reason to suspect that the old man held any ill-intention towards him. Not until he felt the wooden stake enter his chest.

************************************************** ************************************

"I had no idea why he staked me," Jack continued. "After I recovered, I went to find him, to ask him why. He wasn't too pleased."

"Why the stake?" asked Ianto. "I thought that was vampires."

"No idea."

"What did you do to stop him coming after you again?"

Ianto couldn't fully make out Jack's face in the dark, but it was impossible not to see the huge grin. "You didn't!" he exclaimed.

"There was no Retcon then," Jack explained. "I figured if I showed him exactly what I was up to, he might change his mind. He did."

Ianto wanted to be surprised. He wanted to be shocked by Jack's corruption of a man of the cloth. He wasn't, though. The Welshman couldn't help but laugh at Jack's outrageous audacity.

"You're shivering," Jack noticed.

Temporarily putting down his Webley, Jack took off his coat and laid it over Ianto as best he could. He then picked his gun back up, though he was certain the Weevil was long gone.

"Owen shouldn't be too long now," Jack told the injured man. He wasn't entirely certain who he was trying to reassure. "Okay," he said a little too brightly. "On with the story."

************************************************** ************************************

Jack had been doing freelance work for Torchwood for forty years, not wholly voluntarily. Running through the docks of Cardiff, decades before urban renewal, Jack was not a happy man. It was cold, it was snowing and the alien he was chasing was a lot faster than he was. He saw it disappear around a corner and tried to speed up. Unfortunately, the dockside had become decidedly slippery. Jack lost his footing as he attempted to negotiate the corner and skidded off the edge of the dock.

He expected to slam into the icy water and was very surprised when he didn't. Jack would never have imaged hitting the top of a boat mast. He died in agony as he slowly slid towards the deck.

************************************************** ************************************

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I've noticed an alarming trend in all these stories," Ianto whispered through chattering teeth. The pain was beginning to get to him. "You have died in each one."

"You're right," Jack conceded. "Not all that comforting, really. I didn't die with numbers four and five."

"They'll have to wait," the younger man interrupted. "I can see a torch approaching."

Jack looked across the field and, sure enough, torchlight was bouncing along the ground. It was heading straight for them, indicating that Owen had pinpointed them by their mobile phone signals. He had his torch and medical kit in one hand and a lightweight stretcher in the other.

"I bloody hate mud." He shone the light onto Ianto's face, causing him to flinch. "Sorry, mate," Owen apologised. "I need to give you the once over before we get you free."

It didn't take him long to realise that Ianto was becoming feverish. He asked Jack to hold the torch while he retrieved a pair of scissors from his bag. Cutting Ianto's trousers away, not caring for the expensive material, he immediately saw the cause of the fever. Infection was beginning to take hold around the wire. Delving back into his kit he picked out two syringes. One contained morphine and the other antibiotics. He emptied both into Ianto's thigh.

"How are we going to move him?" Jack asked, trying not to sound too worried.

"I've got these," Owen replied, holding up a set of bolt cutters. "I'm gonna need you to ease him up so I can get to the wire."

Slowly, Jack carefully moved Ianto. The trapped man moaned in pain, despite the morphine in his system. Owen made quick work of freeing Ianto. He packed bandages around the wounds and together, he and Jack lifted Ianto onto the stretcher.

************************************************** ************************************

Four hours later, Ianto was sleeping on the autopsy table, onto which Owen had placed a medical mattress. Jack sat on the steps, carefully watching his lover. Owen had tried to tell the Captain that Ianto was going to be fine, but Jack wouldn't be happy until he woke up. Dr Harper had easily removed the wire and ascertained that there wasn't too much damage. Ianto would be on crutches for a while but he would make a full recovery in time.

Jack was staring so intently at him he didn't fail to see the slight twitch in Ianto's hand. Jack was by his side in an instant.

"Yan?"

Ianto's eyes fluttered open and he smiled at the look of concern on Jack's face. "Hello."

The captain leaned down and kissed Ianto softly.

"Leave him alone, Jack," muttered Owen as he entered the room. "Okay, Ianto, for the next couple of days you're going to get to live your dream. You'll be spending all your time in Jack's bed where I can keep an eye on you. And don't bother with the 'I didn't know you liked watching' joke."

Jack, who had already taken the breath to make the joke, shut his mouth again. Owen gave Ianto a quick check before leaving the two men alone again.

"Come on then, Jack," Ianto murmured. "What were incidents number four and five?"

"Are you up to it, Cariad? You've only just come round."

"Go on," prompted Ianto. "I'm fine."

"Five you know about. It was when we were stopping that sleeper cell. Number four, on the other hand..."

************************************************** ************************************

It was 1989 and Alex had managed to persuade Jack to take some time off. The Captain decided to toy with a traditional Earth pastime. Jack Harkness went river fishing. He bought all the necessary gear, including a small boat, and headed out into the wilds of Wales.

Three days in, Jack was very, very bored and gave up on the whole idea. He paddled to the riverbank and attempted to climb out of the boat. There were a few wooden posts lined along the bank for the purpose of mooring boats to. Jack got hold of one and used it for balance. The post wasn't as secure as he first thought. It shifted beneath his weight and he fell against it. The wood pierced through his left shoulder.

************************************************** ************************************

"That was the last time I took time off."

"It would be somewhat off-putting." Ianto commented. "But, maybe you should try again. I'm due to some holidays. We could go away."

Jack thought about it. He could do that. A week in the company of Ianto Jones would be a very good thing.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd like that. We'll go away as soon as soon as Owen says you're fit enough."

Ianto smiled. It was an extreme way of getting Jack to himself, but perhaps getting impaled was going to turn out to be very lucky.


End file.
